


...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

by bluemandycat



Series: You Either Die a Hero or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain [2]
Category: Archvillain Series - Barry Lyga
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:48:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemandycat/pseuds/bluemandycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike has a conversation with someone he thought was dead.</p><p>Prequel to "You Either Die a Hero..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write a prequel bc i love dying and being dead.

            The funeral was a somber affair, at least for Mike. Not too many people had come, honestly. There was Mike, and Mairi, and Kyle’s parents and extended family, and a few other people who had come to support the grieving family. Kyle’s parents had agreed that Kyle wouldn’t have wanted something huge, and Mairi had hollowly joked that he’d make fun of people he didn’t know gushing about him, just because he was dead. Mike knew that Kyle would have wanted them to cheer up a little bit and not take themselves so seriously, but somehow that didn’t make it easier.

 

            There were others who showed up too, but Mike didn’t want to think about that side of his life. Granted, it was a bit hard to ignore the superhuman aspect of Kyle’s life when Mike himself was a famous superhero, but all Mike wanted to do right now was huddle under the covers and forget about it. It was hard to forget what Kyle had been, though, when the three remaining members of the Pantheon of Moral Ambiguity had crashed the funeral. Or when Malevolent Monster, Metallic Mockingbird, and Muted Murmur, who were normally on bad terms with Mike, showed up to pay their respects. The Mad Mask was there, too, crying under his mask, but Mike didn’t want to think about his and Kyle’s connection, and what they had been together. Too raw, too painful to have his memories of fighting alongside Kyle be interspersed by memories of fighting with Kyle.

 

            Mike hadn’t said much at the funeral, which he didn’t really regret. People didn’t need to know about how he felt about how Kyle had died. Bad enough that he was angry with himself. Bad enough that he couldn’t sleep because of guilt. He knew, logically, that he had done the right thing. He had saved possibly thousands of people’s lives from Lundergaard. He was a hero, as always.

 

            But when he had time to himself, he couldn’t shake the memory of that night in the warehouse. Lundergaard had gotten ahold of Kyle just as Mike had gotten ahold of the thumb drive containing the statements of the diplomats. Mike knew that, if released, the information could possibly start riots, maybe even a war. Either way, there was a chance that people could die, which was not a chance that Mike was willing to take. But Lundergaard had Kyle, with a knife to his throat.

 

            “Come now, Michael,” he had said, in almost a fatherly way. “Would you really sacrifice your partner’s life for a thumb drive that may or may not even be important? Hand it over, and I guarantee that your friend will not die.” Kyle had stood stock-still, unflinching even as the knife cut him. For once in his life, he was taking the situation seriously.

 

            Mike had stared at the flash drive in his hand. It was Kyle, but thousands of people’s lives hung in the balance. He couldn’t willingly let that many people die. But it was _Kyle_. He had stared up at his friend.

 

            Kyle had been only breathing slightly, as the knife dug into his neck. It was hard to tell if he was scared, because he stared straight ahead, masking his emotions. Mike wondered if he had learned how to do that as a supervillain. Mike had never held a knife to his throat (in fact, the very thought of that brought his heart to his throat), but he didn’t know what kind of dealings Kyle had had when he was the Blue Freak.

 

            “Really, Michael? You would throw away your partner’s life for a thumb drive?” Lundergaard had said. When Mike had said nothing, he had said, “Tick, tock, Mike. You’re taking a little too long. Guess that means I have to show your…companion…here that I mean business.” He had pressed the knife harder against Kyle’s neck, and Kyle had gasped.

 

            “Kyle!” Mike had yelled in distress. Lundergaard pulled back the knife. A line of blood marked Kyle’s neck. Mike couldn’t tell how deep the cut was.

 

            “So you’ve made your decision then? Can’t bear to see your pretty little sidekick in any pain?” Mike had nodded once. “Good man, Michael. Hand it over.”

 

            Mike had run his fingers over the flash drive. It was _Kyle_ , but thousands of people’s lives hung in the balance. And…and Kyle was a former supervillain, as much as Mike hated to think about it. He had done good things when he had become Mike’s partner, but there was no telling how many people he had hurt. Innocents in exchange for someone who was by no means innocent? Mike couldn’t make that choice. He just couldn’t. It went against his nature as a hero. And Kyle would understand. “No.”

 

            “No? As in, ‘Kill Erasmus?’ I’ll give you one more chance to back out and save his life.” Kyle’s eyes had widened. _Please understand,_ Mike had tried to communicate to him.

 

            “No, I won’t let you get ahold of this information. Go ahead. Kill him.” Kyle had looked like he had been slapped.

 

            Lundergaard had laughed. “Well, I guess I overestimated your attachment to him. No matter. You’d better start running. It’ll take me about thirty seconds to kill your beloved here, and then I’m coming for that drive. No chance to save him if you want to keep it.”

 

            Mike had turned to leave, and looked over his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said to Kyle. Kyle looked like he was in shock. He had blasted open the doors, flying as fast as he could away.

 

            As he left, he had heard a small, almost unnoticeable voice. “Mike?” said Kyle, in an almost defeated voice. A stab of remorse had shot through Mike. The word was followed by a yell, on both Lundergaard and Kyle’s parts. Mike didn’t stop flying until he was home.

 

            Two hours later, the SWAT team was sent to investigate the warehouse. They had found no bodies, but there was blood on the floor and walls, and there was too much of it for it to have just been an injury. Mike didn’t tell anyone that it had been his decision that had killed Kyle.

 

            Mike shook his head to clear it of the bad memories. It would do nobody any good for him to agonize about the night where he had killed his best friend. He decided to go to Kyle’s old lab to clear his head. His parents weren’t home, they were spending some time with a couple of relatives in order to grieve, and besides, Mike needed to clean out the lab anyways. It wouldn’t do to have potentially dangerous inventions in the Camden basement.

 

            It only took about ten minutes to get to Kyle’s house. If he had flown, it would have taken even less time, but Mike didn’t particularly feel like being a superhero right now, even if he was wearing the costume. He let himself in through the basement door that Kyle had never remembered to lock, grabbed a couple of boxes, and started categorizing. It was easier to not think about what he was doing.

 

            He packed up a lot of stuff, piece after piece of inventions that he didn’t have the faintest idea how they worked. Along the way, as he cleaned up, he found other stuff, too. Pictures, mostly. A picture of Kyle and Mairi in first grade. A picture of Kyle and Mairi when they were eleven, in some kind of school play. A picture of Kyle and the Mad Mask, with their masks off and with their arms around each other. A picture of Mike, Kyle, and Mairi on a Ferris wheel at the state fair. A picture that was from about a month ago, with Kyle in his Erasmus hoodie, with Mike’s gold cape slung over his shoulders. Kyle had said that he looked dumb, even as Mike told him he looked nice, so it was a little surprising to see that photo saved away.

 

            All the photos went into the box of stuff he actually cared about. He put the contents of Kyle’s “trophy shelf” in there, too: a half-full jar of dirt with a cracked lead seal, the Mad Mask’s original mask, and the charred shell of a blue iPod that Kyle had briefly carried around a year ago. Mike debated whether to give the mask back to the Mad Mask, but finally decided that if Kyle had wanted the Mad Mask to be given his mask back, he’d have done it while he was alive.

 

            Mike was just about to pick up a medium-sized device with a vial containing a gold fluid attached and put it in the “Inventions” box, when he heard someone clear his throat behind him. “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. If jostled too hard, it could blow up everything in a five-mile radius, and I don’t trust you to be careful,” said a voice that didn’t sound as defeated as it had the last time they had seen each other.

 

            Mike spun around. Behind him was a boy in a blue costume, with a blue motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. “How…what?”

 

            Kyle shrugged. “Surprised? You should be.” He grinned wickedly. “Bet you didn’t plan on me coming back to haunt you.”

 

            “So you’re dead?”

 

            Kyle made a pfft sound with his mouth. “No, of course not. I thought you were smart enough to realize that I was speaking metaphorically, but I see that I overestimated you, as usual.”

 

            The words stung, but Mike was too surprised to argue. “You…you look different.” It was true. He wore blue short sleeve body armor with a white “A” on the front and black plating over his stomach, over a light blue long sleeve t-shirt, with blue gloves and boots. The blue helmet, under his arm, had a reflective visor built in. Slung over his shoulders, he had a familiar tattered blue cape.

 

            “Oh, you mean the costume. Yeah, after that night in the warehouse, I figured why not use the time spent hiding out to update my costume? And this was the result. Pretty cool, right?” He grabbed his cape. “Recognize this?”

 

            “That’s…that’s from when we were twelve. From your old costume.”

 

            “Correct. It’s the only part of my original costume that survived. I thought that I might as well reuse it. Besides, just think about the symbolism. I wore this cape when I first met you and hated you, and I’m wearing the cape now, after I got to know you and hated you.”

 

            Mike reached a hand out. “Kyle, I’m sorry.”

 

            “You can’t apologize for trying to kill someone. You wanna know what happened in that warehouse, after you left with your precious thumb drive? I killed him. I killed Lundergaard with his own knife, and I hid out in his lab for weeks, working and waiting for my cuts to heal.”

 

            Mike suddenly remembered what Lundergaard had done. “Your cuts? How’s your neck doing?”

 

            “Like you really care about my health,” Kyle snarled. But he unclasped the cape around his neck and took it off, exposing a red line across his throat that was slowly scabbing up. It was a lot deeper than Mike had anticipated, to the point where he was worried it would scar. Instinctively, Mike stepped closer, and reached out to touch the wound. Kyle recoiled from the touch. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed.

 

            Mike backed up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I…I don’t want to upset you.”

 

            “You don’t want to upset me? Wow, maybe you should have thought of that before you tried to throw my life away.”

 

            “Kyle, you can come back and be Erasmus again. I’ll explain what happened to everyone, and things will go back to normal.”

 

            Kyle laughed hollowly. “Wow. What kind of rose-tinted glasses are you wearing? Do you honestly think things can go back to normal after you abandoned me?”

 

            “I—”

 

            “You know what? Forget it. I don’t want to hear the mental gymnastics you must be doing to get yourself out of blame.” Kyle picked his cape up and put it back on over the cut. “Face it, Mike. At the end of the day, all you want to be is the prince on a white horse carrying your damsel in distress off into the sunset. And I’m the damsel that just got fridged. This damsel isn’t going to stand around and take your shit anymore, Mike.” Mike winced at the curse. Kyle walked over to the workbench with the boxes on it. “Packing up my stuff? I guess we had the same idea.” He rummaged through the box of stuff Mike wanted to keep, and pulled out the photo of him in his hoodie and Mike’s cape.

 

            “You look nice in that photo,” Mike said, before he could stop himself.

 

            “No, I look stupid,” scoffed Kyle, but he tucked the photo away in a pocket. Then he turned back to the bench and continued Mike’s job of packing up. “So both Erasmus and Kyle Camden are dead? That’s…neat. It’ll be even easier for me to be the Blue Freak again.”

 

            “Please don’t do that, Kyle. Please. I know there’s good in you. I know that you can be Erasmus again. I’m sorry.”

 

            “How many times must I tell you that you can’t apologize for trying to kill someone!” Kyle yelled.

 

            “As many times as it takes for you to forgive me.”

 

            Kyle faced away from him, but Mike saw his shoulders slump. “Just…go, Mike. Don’t tell my parents I’m alive. I’m finding a new place to live. I’ll…see you in the skies. We’ll be enemies.”

 

            “No.” Mike wouldn’t let him get away. “No, we won’t be. Kyle, I don’t care how long it takes. It could take years and years of convincing, but I’m never going to give up on you.”

 

            “Stop pretending you care about me and go.” Kyle didn’t look up from his packing.

 

            Mike headed to the basement door. As he opened the door, he turned to Kyle. “I love you. You know that, right? I love you, but you hate me, and that’s okay. I just want you to know that.” It takes a while for Kyle to reply, and when he does, it’s vengeful and sarcastic, and it cuts Mike to the bone.

 

            “Heroes don’t love villains, archhero.”

**Author's Note:**

> tell me how terrible i am in the comments or with kudos


End file.
